


Two of Hearts

by TheDelphian



Series: Two of Hearts [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Justice League, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League Dark (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Young Bruce Wayne, Young Zatanna Zatara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1253911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDelphian/pseuds/TheDelphian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can promise you a few surprises, a thrill or two along the way, and, with luck, a happy ending." - Zatanna Zatara. A series of BM/ZZ one-shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two of Hearts

There's a chorus of wolf whistles that fills the room as the resounding click, click of stilettos make its way across the metallic floors of the watchtower. The eyes of red-blooded males rake up and down tan, shapely legs garbed in fishnets, watching intently as they gracefully make their way towards the back of the room, hips swaying side to side in a confident, seductive manner. The magician smiles, her soft, nude-glossed lips tugging gently at the corner, deep blue eyes never leaving their target. She arrives at her destination. A gloved hand reaches out in order to softly brush the shoulder of the brooding Caped Crusader who sits at the room's end, his white lenses focused upon the screen of a control panel with great intensity. The magician turns to face him, allowing her hand to linger upon the Dark Knight's shoulder so she may use it as leverage to hoist herself up upon the panel's surface, her long, lean legs crossing at the knee.

A typical man would cease his work and find himself honored to have such an interruption. A typical man would turn to gawk at the beauty before him, and possibly even allow a few dribbles of drool to fall past his lips. At minimum, a typical man would greet her, acknowledge her existence, but the man who sits before the magician is anything but typical; his eyes remain glued to the console, his disposition entirely unchanged. He knows she's there, of course, he always knows, but knowledge is hardly enough to earn his attention. But the magician continues to smile, her lips frozen in what seems to be a look of subtle amusement as she removes her top hat, reaching inside to pull out a clichéd wand whose length is far too grand to have fit inside the accessory. The Knight pays no mind as she places her hat back upon her silken head. She takes the wand in her right hand and waves it over the open palm of her left, a deck of cards emerging from a cloud of rose-colored smoke. She tosses the wand over her shoulder and it vanishes from thin air, leaving both hands free and capable of shuffling the deck that lay upon the silk of her gloves. She spreads them out in a fan, holding them carefully in both hands as she forces them into the stone-faced man's line of sight.

"Pick a card." She tells him, grin athwart her face, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

The Knight acknowledges her then. His head turns slightly and his eyes move towards the corner of each lens, observing the fan of cards that rests within the magician's hands.

"You're terrible at this trick." He says, but takes a card anyways. He studies it briefly before setting it face down upon the magician's firm thigh.

The magician's grin becomes enthusiastic as she shuffles the deck once more, but this time with more flare. The cards swirl about her curvaceous form in a marvelous dance, earning her numerous "Oo's" and "Ah's" from the others that reside in the room. She isn't surprised to find that the Dark Knight had turned back to his work, and, as a result, had not been watching. It doesn't bother her. She fans out the cards once more, shoving them towards him.

"Put it back in the deck." She demands.

The Knight does as he's told. He picks up the card he had placed upon her thigh, not even bothering to look as he swiftly slides it back into her hands. Her smile fades as she proceeds with the final shuffle; her concentration is evident. She does not bother to make this one fancy, but is sure to make it thorough. She bites at her bottom lip and reaches hesitantly for the card that lay at the top of the deck. She gives its face a quick glance and smiles.

"Seven of diamonds!" She exclaims, her blue eyes gleaming with child-like triumph.

The Dark Knight grunts, but does not turn. The magician frowns and pushes the card further into his view.

"Well?" She presses, "Is this your card or not?"

The Knight turns then. He regards the card for quite some time, studying it intensely as though he were to have a quiz on it next week. The magician's frown only deepens as she waits for what seems like an eternity before something truly magical happens: a smile tugs at the Knight's lips. The magician grins; she had finally won. She's seconds away from erupting into a celebratory squeal before she realizes that the Knight's smile is not one of happiness, nor praise, but one of arrogance. The magician frowns once more.

"Not," says the Knight, "but this one is."

And sure enough, his chosen card is pulled from his gauntlet; he places it back upon her thigh, face down. He stands from his chair, haughty smile still spread wide across his lips.

He says to her, "Maybe next time, Zana," then departs, leaving the magician to wonder how the trick could have possibly gone wrong.

She looks down into her lap, a frown glued to her face as she reaches for the card that had betrayed her. She turns it over and begrudgingly observes its face.

Two of hearts.

She smiles.

"Yes," she whispers, "maybe next time."


End file.
